Dresses and Roast Beef

I heard this joke that reminded me of me:

"A preacher reprimanded his wife who’d just spent a fortune on a dress – "Why did you spend so much, I’ve told you that whenever you feel tempted you should say 'Get behind me Satan”

“I did” said his wife.

“What happened then?” said the priest?

“He told me it looked lovely from the back.”


I recently took a Saturday afternoon off to run some errands and let the ladies at a fancy bridal/dress shop swaddle me in expensive gowns worthy of Oscar night. It was fun. I declined the champagne they offered me. Being my usual weekend geeky self (I never dress well on weekends or do my hair; it is how I decompress from my week and let my hair follicles recover from the relentless styling), I wasn't really planning on casting aside my worn jeans and hoodie for some exquisite gowns.

Alas, gala season is again upon us. Our hospital's gala is bigger than ever this year and it's the year to go all out on fancy attire. Then we have the First Look in February, again, a black tie event that requires a little more effort than jeans and hoodie. I hate, hate, hate dress shopping and skipped the usual tour of Macy's, Penny's, Carsons, and Black House/White Market and went straight for the dress shop. If I could knock out this annoying task in 30 minutes or less, I'd treat myself to sushi and a celeb gossip magazine!

So I perused the beautiful gowns as I enjoyed the jazz piped in through invisible speakers and ladies with Brooklyn accents who followed you around proclaiming how "faaaabulous you'd look in this when you paaak the caaaa at Aaaaby's." That's a joke. One of my coworkers is from the east coast and can't say her "r's." But it sounded similar! This one coworker was once talking about how she went to Aaaby's. I could not figure out what "Aaaby's" was and asked her if this was some posh Italian bistro. My other coworker goes, "Man, you're sheltered. You don't know what Arby's is?"

Oh. ARBY's. As in, the roast beef place. Got it.

Anyway, I wasn't exactly planning on this uber attentive staff and was taken aback when I headed for the dressing room to try on my stack of potential gowns, one of the Brooklyn ladies followed me into the 15x15 foot fully-mirrored room. Suddenly, I remembered how it worked from my bridal days, that she was going to help me into and out of the dresses. It's funny how you revert to that high school gym mentality where you don't want people to see you in your skivvies and laugh. She pulled a few strands loose from my haphazard bun and reminded me that I "should probably get my hair done the night of the event." No kidding, Brooklyn Lady! But thanks for reminding me!

It was fun, though. I picked out 7-8 dresses and actually bought TWO. One is black satin, has black spaghetti straps, and a cross-hatched detail on the chest. Then it flairs out to an A-line and has a cascade of satin and silk that starts at the hip and wraps around to form a short train. I will bustle the train. It's SO fancy and completely appropriate for the huge gala we have coming up later this month. The other dress is strapless, with an ivory bodice and straight black satin skirt. It, too, has a train. What is with these ball gowns that have trains?

So after playing "Pretty Woman" (y'know, minus the whole hooker thing), I successfully found two dresses in 40 minutes, survived the invasion of my personal space by a lady that should take up a living fitting pants for people in prison, and decided I needed an Aaaby's roast beef.